A Tyranny of Souls
by B.D. Skunkworks
Summary: Sander Glass has just awakened as a magician. He's then contacted by a mysterious woman who tells him of his new place in magical society. After being dispatched by The Centre, Sander learns of a disturbing pattern of magicians being robbed of their souls. However, that's just the beginning of his troubles. Alternate universe( A greater explanation can be found inside.)
1. Chapter 1- The Magician

...

A/N:

_What I am about to offer you is a Harry Potter fanfiction...sort of; let me explain. You see, if you have read any of my other stories, than you already know of my track record, or rather, "habit" of creating alternate universes. Never will I use the materials,or characters at hand that would of course be synonymous or otherwise necessary to label a certain story a *insert title here* fanfiction. No...that doesn't do it for me._

_ I like to take things in a different direction; out of context._

_ I like to take chances._

_ That's why I call myself Skunkworks (if you don't know the actual definition, look it up.) I'll always want to take something perfectly functional and apply my own twist to it. The idea may be the same, but the execution will undoubtedly be much different._

_ Which brings me to where I am now. While this is a Harry Potter fanfic, don't expect there to be a Hogwarts castle of witchcraft and wizardry; a Hogwarts express; or any of the cast of characters we all know and love. If anything, it will be necessary for me to undermine, slander, and pretty much decimate each and every last one of those topics. But however, the IDEA of the Harry Potterverse will be alive and well, only alot different from the norm. I've read quite a few Potter fics on this site, and I've seen none that have taken this direction before (if I'm wrong, I apologize. I can't possibly read over six hundred and sixty-six thousand fanfics myself, what do you want from me?)_

_ They pretty much stick to the facts and the hard magical canon of the story. In other words, they play it safe._

_ But I don't wannna do that._

_ I don't mean this to be a slight on any of the author's parts (some VERY talented people have written these fics) it's just that there's alot of the same out there. This, on the other hand, will be a little different. Maybe not the best fanfic ever written on the subject; but different._

_ At any rate, please enjoy the story._

_ -B.D. Skunkworks_

_..._

*Chapter 1*

The Magician

**_ I am the living flame, and I teach the holy games_

_ teach the secret of the dance_

_ throw the future in the runes_

_ kick the sand in Satan's face_

_ I'll put Jesus in his place_

_ Shaman or priest it's all the same_

_ The magician is my name**_

_ -Bruce Dickinson- The Magician _

_..._

It was half past ten on the breezy westbound platform. (If this inadvertently leads you to believe that the time was indeed different anywhere other than on this platform, then feel free to run with that notion.)

A young woman of an indeterminate age of adolescence was standing just a little ways from the rest of the morning commuters. Her earbud headphones were plugged into her Samsung galaxy S4 as her head swayed this way and that with the music flowing into her ears.

"I'm happy. I'm feeling glad, I got sunshine in a bag. I'm useless, but not for long. My future...is comin' on...is comin' on..." Despite her distance from the people around her, her voice carried clear through the chilly air, earning her more than a few annoyed glances. Her attention, however, never deviated away from a young man directly across from her on the opposite platform. He took no notice of her as his head was buried intently in a book. The young woman groaned to herself; if he was anything like the others, there was absolutely no doubt as to _what_ he was reading. "My future. Is comin' on...is comin' on...is comin' on..." And she stepped across the yellow safety line and clear off the platform. 

_..._

Sander Glass had his whole undivided attention on the excellent book he was reading; _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. Needles to say, everything therein fascinated him. The thing was, Sander was...well, to put kindly, he was a nerd. And I mean a _NERD _nerd. He made other nerds look like jocks. If you ever saw his room, you would probably agree. Actually, one look at his attire would give you the clue; black skinny jeans and matching steel-toed boots; a slim fit t-shirt with _The Legend of Zelda_ logo printed on it; and two thick rubber bracelets on his wrists; a purple one with the name _Twilight Sparkle _on it; and a cyan blue one that said _Rainbow Dash. _And a _Halo: Reach_ messenger bag slung across his shoulder.

Oh yeah...he was nerd.

Funny thing though. If you looked at him in the right light...and if maybe he cut his overgrown brown hair... and breathed with his mouth closed, he could be damn good-looking. But he was never too worried about attracting girls, not with the pursuit of his nerdly ventures being oh-so time consuming.

Which is why he took so long to notice the girl that was sitting directly beside him on his left. Just how did she get there? The escalator from the lower level of the station was to his right, which means she would have had to walk in front of and around him to get to where she was sitting now, but he never sensed any movement; never saw the shadow of a human body cross his reading light.

Sander heard the rumble of the oncoming train and instinctively looked up to his left; but no, it was the westbound train coming in, not the eastbound. Sander meant to go back to his book, but he suddenly found his attention focused on the girl. Her head was turned in the same direction his was, so she didn't notice him staring his way down her body. Her..slim...wonderful body. Torso clad in a midriff-bearing tank top covered by one of those impossibly small hoodies that only girls could wear. Her thin legs were crossed left over right; her cutoff pants showing her slender ankles and her perfectly small feet clad in black ballet flats. Oh yeah. She was hot.

"Eyes up, degenerate," she said suddenly. Sander retreated to his book with a guilty haste. "You were staring, weren't ya?" She said, finally turning to face him. Sander was only able to look back at her because her tone of voice was not angry, it sounded more like, 'I get that all the time'. "Don't worry, I get that all the time," she said.

'Nailed it' Sander thought.

"See that guy over there," she said, with a jerk of her head towards the opposite platform. There was a middle-aged man there who quickly averted his gaze, no doubt alarmed at the two young people staring intently in his direction. "Mo fo been starin' at me since I got on this damn platform. I'll give 'em something to stare at all right." She uncrossed her legs and withdrew a long silver-colored rod from an apparent holster on her right thigh. She pointed it at the man across the platform and his coffee thermos exploded, sending hot black liquid cascading down his face. "That'll learn ya," she said.

"How did you do that?" Sander breathed. It couldn't have been...

The young woman smiled mischievously. "You know what that was," she said.

"But it can't be," Sander said. He didn't dare believe it.

"Say it," she said back.

"That shit isn't real!"

"_Say it!_"

Sander took just a moment before whispering the word "...Magic..."

The young woman leaned back on her bench seat, apparently contented. "And now that you know that, I can fill you in."

"Fill me in on what?" Sander said with a disbelieving impatience. "That you expect me to believe that you can do magic? What, are you from a magic school and are gonna start sending me letters through my fireplace? Well, joke's on you, bitch, I don't have a fireplace!"

"Oh please," she responded coolly. "We already know everything about you."

"Say what?"

"Your name; where you live; how long you've lived there; and what you do when you think you're alone. And you should be _very_ ashamed of yourself. You don't sleep on that pillow, do you?"

"Wait, _what?_"

The woman laughed. "Actually, that last part is untrue, but we do know who you are, Sander Glass." She punched a few keys on the touchscreen of her galaxy S4. "You took long enough to show up, but at least we finally found you."

"Wait a minute, who the fuck is _we_? And what do you mean by 'found you'?"

The young woman tucked her phone away. "You see, you're what we call a neoteric, or a neo for short; someone who just grew into their newly discovered power. And it's my job to find neos and to bring them to the Centre."

"What the hell is the Centre?" Sander's brain was working furiously to keep up with what she was saying.

"The Centre is basically the base of our operation here in Philadelphia," she responded.

"You expect me to believe that you're from Philly?"

"Oh, there's gonna be alot harder things for you to believe in a little while, trust me."

Sander rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like I'm supposed to believe that you're a witch."

Her eyes suddenly adopted a hard edge. "Don't ever call me a witch again," she said.

"Well, let's see," Sander said with mock thoughtfulness. "You think you can do magic, you work for a magical place called, 'The Centre', and you claim to know everything about me. Pretty much makes you a witch."

The woman ground her teeth together. "Let me see that book," she said.

Sander looked to the closed book in his lap. "For what?" he said dubiously.

"Just hand it over," she said with an impatient motion of her hand. Sander handed her the hardcover volume. The woman took it and frowned at the cover. "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire," she growled. "Well, you're right about the fire part." And then she touched the tip of her rod to the front cover and the entire book burst into flame.

"What the fuck!?" Sander gasped.

Apparently, the fire that consumed the book was not even hot, or natural, or both, for she continued to hold the flaming book as though nothing were wrong. "And now..." and with a gentle blow of her lips, the fire was immediately extinguished, and the book, and the flames, simply vanished as though they never were.

"What...the fuck...was that?" Sander didn't know whether to be amazed or angry. On the one hand, he was out a twenty-five dollar book. On the other, something just happened here that was _way_ out of the ordinary.

"Listen to me," the woman said. "Before I tell you anything more, you have to forget anything you think you know about magic. Forget Harry Potter, forget J.K. Rowling; all that shit."

"Why?" Was all Sander could say.

The woman grinned, showing all of her teeth. " 'Cause I'm about to rock your fucking world, baby," she said.

*End of chapter 1*

A/N:

Yes, that's right, another note, just hang tight. This chapter is really only supposed to serve as an introduction to our two little characters here. And I apologize for all the name dropping and what not. I don't mean to take shots at or insult the amazing Mrs. Rowling in any way shape or form (believe me, I fucking love Harry Potter as much a the next guy, no, _more_ than the next guy) But her verbal dismemberment is going to have to be a necessary element of my story. Sorry for stepping on anyone's toes here, or being loose or disrespectful to the canon, but again, bear with me. Anyhow, hope you guys enjoyed, I'll update again as soon as I can.

-B.D. Skunkworks


	2. Chapter 2- Nine and three-quarters

*Chapter 2*

Nine and three-quarters

"Alright, first things first," Sander said. "What the hell's your name?"

"My name's Wanda," she said back. "Wanda Dozen."

"A witch named Wanda..." Sander mused. "Wonder why Rowling never thought of that?"

"I told you you to stop calling me a witch," Wanda said. "I am a magician, as are you."

"Whats wrong with witch?"

"The word 'witch' is an accusative term. It all goes back to the Salem witch trials. It was the first word to come to the minds of the people in that era which to label someone as unnatural or freakish. And since they couldn't understand what magic actually was then, they sought to abolish it. It's the same for the word 'wizard'. The word usually coincides with foolish images of old men with long beards and starry robes who live in caves and shit. The old prejudices have long since died out, however, that didn't stop our culture from abandoning those labels. In America, magical people are called magicians, regardless of sex."

"Are they called different anywhere else?" Sander asked.

"Most European countries still stick with witches for women, and wizards for men. But alot of countries have recently started adopting their own catch-alls for magical people; In America, we're magicians; in Asia, they're mages; in Africa, they're magi; and the list goes on," Wanda explained.

Sander nodded as he processed this information, which he was fairly surprised at his ability to understand so well. "So if you're a magician, I guess that's your wand," he said, pointing to Wanda's silver baton. "I've never seen one that long before; hell, I've actually never seen a real wand before. That thing must be two feet long."

Wanda twirled the slim rod between her equally slim fingers. "Eighteen and a quarter inches, actually," she said. "But these are really a dime a dozen."

"Why is it made of metal? Aren't wands made of wood?"

Wanda expelled a breath through her nose, "Wand of metal shows your mettle, does what wood never could," she said rhythmically. "Europeans are thick as bricks and still insist on making them from fucking trees. The number one rated statistic for wand destruction is accidental breakage; snapping it in two by some way or another. But I'll tell ya this, ain't nobody snapping my baby right here. Solid steel; break-proof; rust-proof, and dead fucking sexy," she gave the metal wand a resounding kiss.

"So what kind of core do you have?" Sander asked. "Phoenix tail feather, dragon heart string, or-"

"Standard spell cell," was Wanda's answer. Seeing the confusion on Sander's face, she gave the very end of the metal rod a light tap, and out the other end popped...

"A fucking t_riple A battery_!?" Sander practically screamed.

"Is what it looks like," Wanda said serenely. "But it's actually an incredibly condensed pod of magical energy; good for about a thousand spells. Other types can give you more, but these are the cheapest."

Sander massaged his temples as he tried to follow all of this. "So tell me about this place called, The Centre."

"As I've said already, The Centre is our base of operations in this city. Every major city has it's own Centre. It's there that you will receive your education-"

"Kind of like Hogwarts, right?" Sander said excitedly.

"I told you to forget Harry Potter," Wanda snapped. "Firstly, I've been to Britain personally; explored every inch of King's Cross station myself and there is no platform nine and three-quarters; there is no Hogwarts express; and there sure as hell ain't no Hogwarts castle. Where European people receive their magical education, I can only guess, but it isn't there.

Secondly, you're probably under the impression that it will take you seven years to learn the ways of magic; that's not true. If all goes well, it should only take you several days. This is where the laundry list of all of Rowling's untruths begin. You see, Rowling was writing on a subject that the bitch barely knows anything about. Magic isn't something you have to have pounded into your brain; you _already_ know everything, you just have to learn to manipulate it. Which is what will happen at The Centre. You'll be educated, evaluated, placed where you will most be useful, and finally shipped."

"Who do you work for, fucking FedEx?" Sander said. "And what do you mean, I already know everything? Why bother teaching me if that's the case?"

"Because you have to learn to use it," Wanda said. "You've only recently awakened, so you have no magical knowledge."

"But wouldn't strange things be happening around me? Like magic bursts I wouldn't be able to control?"

"Another of Rowling's mistakes," Wanda said derisively. "Magic is a force that must be focused through a proper channel in order to be used; it doesn't just _explode _out of you at random intervals. Rowling will have you believe that phenomenon begins somewhere in early childhood, and that magical people start school at around that time. That is total bullshit.

Magical people awaken at different times in their lives. You, for instance, are twenty-two years old, but have just now awakened. Some take even longer than that. There have been cases of very early awakenings reported, funny enough, these reports all come from Japan. I knew those Asian kids were smart, but damn..."

Sander took a deep breath. "So magic is something that I already know, huh?" He gave his head a few disbelieving nods and a matching laugh. "So where is this Centre of yours?"

"Drexel University," Wanda said.

"You're fucking me, right?" Sander said. "My school is a center for magical operations?"

"You attend a school with a dragon for a mascot, and yet you doubt the presence of magical peoples?" This shut Sander up. It was then that the train they had been waiting for finally arrived. "Don't worry, everything will become clear soon enough," Wanda said.

_"Doors are opening,"_ said a pleasant female voice upon the train's arrival. _"Frankford train making all stops."_

"This way," Wanda said, walking down the platform. Sander followed her to the very last car on the train. They both boarded to find a pretty packed car. Several people were standing as all of the sitting room had been taken.

_ "Doors are closing"_

"Nice one, Wanda," Sander said. "I can't speak for you, but I don't feel like doing too much standing up on these things."

Wanda squeezed her way around a portly woman with her face buried in her cell phone. "We won't have to," Wanda said, withdrawing her wand. "Observe." She pointed her wand at man in the seat directly in front of her. "You. Move." She said this with a small jerk of her wand. The man reacted as though she had attached invisible marionette strings to him. With a somewhat ungraceful movement, the man vacated his seat and stood in the isle. "I suppose you want to sit down too, huh?" she said to Sander over her shoulder. She again pointed her wand at the other man in the adjacent seat, whose eyes had not moved from the passing city scape outside his window. "Move it." With the same mindless haste, he sprung up and joined the other man in the isle. Wanda gestured extravagantly for Sander to take the window seat, which he did.

Upon sitting he said, "You know, I'd ask you how you did that, but something tells me that I'm not going to understand the answer." He cast a look to the two men who were magically evicted from their seats. While they appeared no worse for the wear, they both had somewhat glazed expressions on their faces. "Or like it."

"You will understand because the answer is quite simple," Wanda said. "Magic may be mysterious, and ambiguous as it is powerful, but it's actually not difficult to grasp. It's all about _this_." She pointed slowly to her head. "You see, Rowling lead you to believe that magic is something physically endowed within you; intangible as it may be, she still presented it as a physical trait; some had it, others didn't. Magic has nothing to do with your body or how you're born or who you're born from. It's all in your head.

Magic is a force that is channeled exclusively by your mind. Those who have awakened have been subjected to a certain number and form of stimuli."

"Stimuli like what?"

"Could be anything," Wanda said. "We have yet to really pinpoint the source of what exactly awakens people, but we do know that it has everything to do with your mind's willingness to accept things that are...out of the ordinary."

Sander thought for a moment. "The way you say that, you make it sound like anyone could awaken."

"And you would be right," Wanda nodded. "Every human being ever born on this planet has the potential for magical awakening, it's just a matter of them realizing and accepting it." Wanda crossed her long legs as she paused for thought. "How can I put it another way...? You remember all those shows from the early nineties? Sailor Moon; Dragon Ball Z; and the Power Rangers?"

"Do I?!" Sander said, his nerd senses tingling.

"Now listen to this. Whenever you watched those kinds of shows, your imagination would run wild; you would see yourself in those situations; imaging that it was _you_ that was battling for the universe. And when the show was over, you would go outside and gather with all your friends and re-enact all those things you saw on TV. You would feel invincible; firing pretend Kamehameha waves and Hadokens and shit, even though you knew it was all in your head.

And that's exactly where it starts.

"Knowledge and acceptance of the fantastic is one of the sure fire ways to unlock your magical potential. Over the years, as those same kids grow up, they begin learning of the ways of the real world, and slowly start to forget or rather, let go of those childhood fantasies. Someone like you, who clearly has never forgotten those experiences, is a prime candidate for becoming awakened." Wanda paused here again. "The thing is, we just don't know what the x factor is; why some awaken and others don't. It's a phenomenon more mysterious than magic itself."

_"Fifty-second street station"_ the automated voice chimed.

Sander watched as the two men Wanda magically motivated from their seats left the train. One of them walked smack into the seat in front of him as he made his way out. "Hey, is it like, safe just to _magic_ people like that?" He said. "And besides; didn't you just do magic in public? Isn't there like a national statute of secrecy and shit?"

Wanda laughed out loud. "Firstly. Yes, the statute does exist, but we here in America abide by no such law. It just so happens that these yops-"

"Yops?" Sander said.

"Yop is an acronym. It stand for Highly Un-magical Person."

"I thought they were called muggles?"

"Only in Europe," Wanda explained. "Over here, we call them yops; in Europe, they're muggles. Shadowhunters just call them mundanes-"

"Shadowhunters are_ real_!?" Sander gasped.

"Story for another time," Wanda said with a grin. "Anyway, using magic on yops is not a punishable act. You see, Rowling was right about one thing; yops will go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them right in the face. Those two guys that just left the train are under the assumption that they just really, _really_ wanted to give their seats up to that beautiful girl that just walked on the train."

"But I didn't hear you say a spell or anything, you just said 'Move it',"

"That's the beauty of magic," Wanda said. "Power of the mind. Magic is not all about twirling your wand and muttering spells that have a suspiciously Spanish verbal inclination. It's a force of your mind; you can achieve the exact same results as any spoken spell simply by focusing your mind on the effect you wish to achieve." Wanda took a look around the train car and spotted a new target. "For instance, the _silencio _spell," she said, nodding at a man chatting loudly on his cell phone. "Rowling's method requires you to actually say _silencio_ when appropriating your target; that's bull. Observe."

She pointed her metal wand at the man, who remained ignorant to Wanda doing so, and muttered, "Shut up." Instantly the man's voice was silenced. He pounded his chest, coughed, and cleared his throat in an attempt to get it working again. "Now, you see, he's under the impression that he just came down with a coughing fit that paralyzed his vocal chords," Wanda explained. "When in reality, that mo fo will never say another word for as long as he lives if I don't give him his voice back. And I did it all without actually having to say _silencio_." Wanda pointed to her head again. "Power of the mind," she said.

Sander was slowly beginning to understand. "So, it's like a force of your will..." he said. "The words you say don't really matter, as long as you focus hard enough on the effect you want to achieve, the spell will work perfectly?"

"Bingo," Wanda said.

_"Fortieth street station"_

The doors opened and the silenced man and several others left the train. "Hey, will that guy ever get his voice back?" Sander asked.

"Whoops, kinda forgot about that part," Wanda said offhandedly. "Oh well, sucks to be him."

"That's gotta break some kind of magical law," Sander said. "Even if you are of age, using magic on random people like that can't be safe, not to mention you did so on a train full of mug- I mean, yops."

"Still worried about that secrecy thing, are you?" Wanda quipped. "Look, that statute does not apply to the country of North America. And the only reason it exists in the first place is because European wizards are a bunch of hermits. Remember, Rowling wrote those books based on _her_ world view, and with her being British, it wasn't a very broad one.

Over there, magical people feel the need to hide themselves from modern society; to form a world separate from the one which they actually live in. And over hundreds of years, they have become so ingrained in this archaic doctrine that they completely forgot how to live amongst their fellow man. European wizards are completely out of touch with the real world, having lived so long in the secret one they've created. The mother fuckers can't even dress themselves properly when they do have to deal with non magical people, nor can they communicate with them effectively. They're so far out of touch with the world of the normal that they can't function in it. You could easily mesmerize one of those idiots with something as simple as a flashlight; a cell phone; or an automobile.

"But here in America, we never lost touch with our non magical brethren. We live with them; we live _like_ them. European wizards seem to forget that they were born on earth, not on another fucking planet. _We_ have never felt the need to cut ourselves off from society. Those morons don't know how valuable knowledge of yops and their technology can be."

_"Thirty sixth street station"_

"So, maybe Rowling was wrong about alot of things," Sander said. "Or maybe she just didn't know how things worked in other countries. But you can't blame her for that."

"I'm not blaming her," Wanda said. "It's just that she should have done more research before writing on such a broad subject. And I mean _alot_ more."

_"Thirtieth street station. Access to Drexel University."_

"This is our stop," Sander said, rising from his seat.

"Sit," Wanda commanded.

"Look, you said this place was in Drexel, so unless you-"

"Just sit your ass down," Wanda sighed.

Sander complied and retook his seat. All of the other passengers had left the car, leaving Sander and Wanda alone. "So, what, you feel like walking all the way back to Drexel? 'Cause this train is about to-"

"The train is leaving, but we're not going anywhere," Wanda said.

Sander could see the door of the next car from where her was sitting.

_"Doors are closing"_

The electrical whir of power moving the train began to fill Sander's ears as the train began to move. Correction.

_Some_ of the train began to move.

The last car that they were seated in had somehow (dare I say 'magically') uncoupled itself from the rest of the train and remained stationary while the other cars rolled off as they usually would. "What in the hell?"

"What time is it?" Wanda asked him absently.

"It's nine-thirty," Sander said.

Wanda nodded and reclined back further in her seat. Sander looked to the window on his right and into the underground station. Many passengers were starting to file in. They anxiously checked their watches and craned their neck down the length of the tunnel to possibly scout an oncoming train. Sander felt quite foolish and exposed sitting in this train car. "Hey, they can't like...see us or anything can they?"

Wanda looked out the window to see a particularly frantic woman staring down the tunnel. She hopped nervously from one foot to the other while she checked her watch. She was clearly in a hurry. Wanda reached over Sander and gave the woman a unceremoniously rude salute. The middle finger. "Fuck you, stupid bitch," she said. That answered Sander's question.

"Are you always so...?" Sander wasn't sure what word to use to describe Wanda's...disposition.

"What? A jerk? A bitch? A total fucking cunt?" She said unashamedly.

"Yes," was Sander's simple answer.

"Not really," Wanda said back. "Only on days that end in y." She gave a huge yawn. "Time?" She asked.

Sander checked his phone again. "Nine forty-three"

"Just about time, c'mon." Wanda rose from her seat and made her way to the door, and Sander followed. "You're about to enter The Centre," she told him. "We've recently had an influx of neoterics like yourself, so you won't be the only one on shaky ground. You'll follow me to the foyer, where you'll be registered, and then to the atrium where you'll be given your orientation by Anima; the founder of this particular Centre. If you have any questions, save them for later." She was watching her phone intently, no doubt watching the time. "Three...two...one..." And the trains' double doors opened and They both stepped out into a narrow corridor. Sander looked behind him, but could see nothing of the train or the station from which they came, only a solid stone wall.

"So this is the Centre?" He asked.

"No, the Centre is just beyond those doors," Wanda said, pointing down the length of the corridor. "There are exactly three hundred and ninety -seven thousand exits to this place, but only one entrance. And it only opens at a certain time of day."

"So the only way in here is through a secret entrance at the train station, and that entrance is only accessible at nine forty-five in the morning?" Sander asked.

"Right on the money," Wanda said.

"Nine forty-five..." Sander mused. "Hey, wait a minute...that's nine and three-quarters."

Wanda grinned sardonically. "Anima's idea, not mine," she said. "C'mon, don't wanna be late for your first day at the Centre, do you?"

"No," Said Sander. "No I don't."

*End of chapter 2*

**A/N:**

** I feel the need to apologize again; all this verbal destruction of Rowling and her ideas...but I've already touched on that subject in my story intro, so I won't go on about it. I do feel the need to say however that I won't be updating this story for a little while. You see, this whole idea was just another spark in the brain I got after recently finishing the entirety of the Harry Potter series again (for the fifth time).**

** And I says to myself, "Uh-oh, I feel a fanfiction comin' on." So I just decided to start the ball rolling...and immediately stop that ball. Depending on what kind of reception this receives ( if any) will determine my priority in updating it. So just think of these two chapters here as a sort of...fanfiction demo. The final finished product won't hit shelves for another year, and is subject to to the usual number of creative hurtles. **

** Jesus, am I still talking? I'll let you go now.**

** P.S.- I would like to thank fanfiction user _TheyCallMeVengeance for the fav and the follow._**

** -B.D. Skunkworks **


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